


Shadows and Spies

by sosaveme



Series: The Christmas Chronicles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Ginny's involved in something shady, Hermione wants to know what's going on, Holidays, It'll be okay in the end, Mistery, School, Sneaking Around, Start Of The School Year, also on FFN, but you don't have to read one to understand the other, cross-posted on ffn, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-16 19:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosaveme/pseuds/sosaveme
Summary: Something was up with Ginny, and I was going to figure out what.That's what my original intentions were, at least. I had no idea that would mean sneaking through the dead of night, braving the unknown territories of a crime boss's club, befriending an enemy, and risking my life, all because the girl I loved was acting differently the first day of school.Hopefully, it won't end too badly. And hopefully, I'll get some answers.This story is part of a series, but can be read by itself!





	1. In Which Distant Relations Become Friends

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi guys! This story is part of a series of mine, but you don’t have to read the others in the series if you don’t want to—this can be read as a standalone. This takes place in a high school AU around Christmas a more 2017/18-ish world. In addition, this is going to be a Ginny/Hermione pairing, which brings me to my next segment:
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter world, nor will I ever.
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings:
> 
>  
> 
> * Girl x girl. Don’t like? Don’t read.
> 
> * Gangs
> 
> * Drugs (mentioned)
> 
> * Mild swearing
> 
>  
> 
> I don’t have a beta yet for this story! If you’d like to help me out with that, feel free to PM me or leave a comment about it!
> 
>  
> 
> Finally, please give this story a shot before you stop reading—it takes until part way through chapter two to pick up pace and get better. I appreciate your patience! Also, definitely leave a review and tell me what you think, no matter your opinion. I always appreciate helpful criticism and pointers!

 

Something was up with Ginny.

 

I just knew it.

 

It’s one of those things that you can’t quite explain, you just understand, which was why I knew no one would believe me. After all, I had no proof—she was doing just fine in all of her classes, charming as always, and seemed fine with her friends.

 

And, of course, as drop-dead gorgeous as ever.

 

With those flowing locks of beautiful, red hair, swirling around her as she hurled a dodgeball at a classmate across the room from her.

 

Goddamn.

 

I felt my heart squeeze as I watched her, my breath fluttering slightly.

 

I was pretty sure I was in love.

 

Scratch that, I’d been in love for years now, ever since I started school at Hogwarts Academy.

 

Ginny was a year younger than me—a sophomore, now—but I had transferred to this school during my own sophomore year, so we had been there for the same amount of time. That didn’t mean we were the closest of friends, though.

 

The very little I had learned about Ginny—that she was smart, funny, and kind—was mostly from her older brother, Ron, one of my two best friends. I know—exactly the way every young woman wants to learn about the person she’s got a crush on—though the person’s overprotective brother that just so happens to also be her best friend.

 

Of course, I had had a few interactions with Ginny, but not enough to be properly considered a friend. Just an acquaintance, a distant relation.

 

Which, really, I was alright with. After all, how are you supposed to approach the sister of your best friend, who’s good at everything you’re good at, if not better? Not to mention prettier, more popular, more athletic, more—well, you get the point.

 

I guess there were probably a lot of braver people than I who would have been willing to give it a go, but personally, I wasn’t sure where to start.

 

Like, not even a little bit.

 

Do you text something nice? Tell her her hair looked good this morning? Or go with something more casual, a general conversation starter, like asking her why her brother wasn’t at school today?

 

It was hard for me to even _begin_ to consider one of those options, despite how they sounded (in theory) like relatively low-stress, low-stakes options.

 

Just then a ball hit me in the face and I stumbled back, almost falling, suddenly jerked from my thoughts back to reality.

 

Harry sniggered next to me as I self-consciously rubbed my nose. (Say what you want—dodgeballs hurt when they’re thrown by three-hundred-pound, seventeen-year-old bulldozers who could easily bench-press you in their sleep!)

 

“You’re out, ‘Mione,” Ron told me gently.

 

I grumbled, embarrassed. “Right, sorry.”

 

“Just pay more attention next time,” Harry said. “I’m sure you’ll do better.”  


“Right, yeah,” I said hurriedly and shimmied over to the “out” bench.

 

 _Did Ginny see that?_ I wondered.

 

How humiliating.

 

A perfect SAT score last year and I get hit in the face by a dodgeball (and nearly fall over, no less), then have to be _told_ that I’m out.

 

Wonderful.

 

I really hoped she wasn’t looking.

 

My face burned with embarrassment, but I tried to hide it as I sat down and watched the others finish their game. At least, I reminded myself, I hadn’t fallen flat on my ass. That would have been much worse.

 

It was just the start of the school year—two weeks in, actually—and the PE coach had already decided she couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything substantial to do than a children’s game.

 

Not that I minded, of course—anything was better than being forced to play basketball in groups of four for 73 minutes—but it was a little curious that she still had her job.

 

Oh well. I supposed she _had_ only had it for a fortnight—the headmaster was probably just giving her some time, seeing if she could turn it around.

  
At least, I hoped so. She was our worst one yet, which was saying something. We’d gone through three of them in the past year alone, seeing as no one really wanted to try to make a pack of hormonally-charged, surly teens do push-ups and squats for several hours a day.

 

No matter, I watched Ginny and Harry, my other best friend, proceed to win the game for our team (everyone else cowered in the back and tried not to get hit) and then high-five each other after getting the last guy on the other team out.

 

That reminds me—wait, let me backtrack a little bit.

 

I suppose that the phrase “nothing had changed” with Ginny was probably a bit misleading. Ginny _had_ seemed more cocky and confident lately. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was a drastic change from last year—she had been shy, unhappy, and quiet. Now it seemed like she was at the top of the world all the time. But that “top-of-the-world” attitude also had moments of seeming like a complete and utter lie, which was what had me worried.

 

Now, I know that there are all these theories about how you should “be the change you want to see” and all, but this was different—this wasn’t her trying to get out of her shell and be happier with her life; this felt like her trying really hard to make it seem like nothing was wrong.

 

But, of course, I had no evidence to back up this theory.

 

So, I did the only logical thing I could think of: I kept an eye on Ginny.

 

I know it was bad of me to assume something was wrong like that, to get nosy, get into other people’s business uninvited, but I was genuinely concerned for her safety—a lot of kids from our school had been getting into some risky behavior lately, especially since the old crime boss known as Voldemort had escaped from prison.

 

A lot of our classmates had families that were once affiliated with him, which meant that a lot of them went rushing to his ranks once he escaped. Family is a hard thing to say no to, even if they’re trying to persuade you to join a known murderer.

 

And even for those of us not involved—we had suddenly gained a bunch of classmate dealers. It meant that a huge number of us were in some risky business.

 

Ginny’s family never was a part of all that, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wrapped up in something bad—with his return, there were a lot of things suddenly available for kids interested in darker-natured activities.

 

Not only that, but there were rumors that he was gaining followers—and not necessarily through their own consent. Not that anyone was surprised, of course—he had done things of the start during his first ascension.

 

The last time that he rose to power, it was through political speeches and rallies, but after evidence came out that he had been blackmailing, threatening, and even killing potential followers, he was (and rightly so) convicted and thrown in prison.

 

But now, fifteen years later, he was out once again, and not able to use the same recruitment methods as before—an open political campaign was (clearly) well out of the picture for him.

 

That meant that he got even meaner and more menacing, harder to disobey—or so the stories went.

 

Of course, rumors are often blown way up into something that they aren’t, but most of the time, there is some sort of backing to them, even if it doesn’t entirely translate into the story that unfolds from it.

 

Anyway, I was determined to find out what was wrong with Ginny and if Voldemort had anything to do with it.

 

Call it a stupid gut feeling if you like, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts over the years, and I felt like something was really wrong right then, and it’s a good thing I did.

 

I didn’t know then just how wrong things were, nor did I realize how much shit I was getting myself into when I decided to try to fix the problems of my best friend’s sister who—oh, yeah—was also the girl I just so happened to be totally and completely in love with.

  


Enough with this whole “intro” crap. Here’s where the story really begins.

 

Nevermind. Sorry. I lied.

 

The story didn’t really start getting interesting for a little while—

 

At first, nothing happened, which was frustrating. I wanted to either be proven right or to be proven wrong and get it all over with. That seemed a lot nicer than waiting for something bad to happen to Ginny or for me to do something stupid.

 

But it seemed like everything was normal, which reminded me of those horror movies that start in the too-perfect towns where everything is just right, as if to put up a sign that reads, “Nothing Wrong Here. Why You Lookin’ At Us Funny?”

 

Anyway, Ginny went to her classes, walked to her dorm, then went to dinner. Then she went back to her dorm and (presumably) went to bed. I didn’t want to be a total creep about things, so, of course, I probably missed some things in there, but it wasn’t like I was going to start spying on her while she slept.

 

It went on like this for a couple of weeks and eventually I decided it was probably pointless to keep watching out for any little tiny happenings in Ginny’s daily routine—nothing was changing, so I shouldn’t expect anything to do so in the future.

 

But, right as I was about to chalk it up to meaninglessness, to a pointless thought that my over-analytical mind came up with—and this is where the story begins—we ended up in the library together.

 

Unordinary, yes, I know, but only at first glance.

 

I figured that it would be unordinary, too, in the beginning. But that’s not how it turned out.

 

It was about four weeks into school by then so Ginny, understandably, had a mountain of homework (and teachers act like they give _reasonable_ amounts of homework—in my book, if one week’s worth of homework weighs more than five pounds all printed out, it’s _way_ too much, and that’s coming from someone who _literally_ decides to study in her free time just for fun), and the library was a completely normal place to try to work something of the sort out.

 

But she was acting funny that day, so I watched her curiously as she sat down and opened her own computer, nervously glanced around herself, and logged onto a site I didn’t recognize—not at first.

 

Then I did—I saw a logo—a _federal_ logo—in the corner of her screen, at which point I stopped even _pretending_ not to watch her.

 

Probably not the best move on my part, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking too far into the future at the time. I just wanted to know what was going on.

 

Then she pulled out a jump drive, plugged it into the computer, and transferred many files onto it.

 

Now, I’m no computer expert, but what I can tell you is that they didn’t look like files she should have. Every once and awhile she would seem to get scared, start typing faster. She had to jump through hoops to open the files and finally—after lots of coding and looking for loopholes and other computer stuff that I didn’t really understand—she transferred the files to her jump drive and whipped them from the site.

 

Yeah. Probably not the most legal transaction, even from my non-expert point of view.

 

Afterward, I watched her obliterate her footsteps. That, at least, was something I that I understood how to do.

 

Finally, she opened a new site and sent all of three words.

 

_I have it._

 

She stood up and glanced around again. Her eyes met mine for just a brief moment before she hurried out.

 

I couldn’t even tell if she really saw me, or if it was just my imagination, the way her gaze lingered on me for that split second, but that was the start of my wondering _why_ , something you’ll hear a lot more of as I tell this story.

 

I got up, following her out. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, I just figured that I needed to talk to her about all of… whatever this all was.

 

“Ginny!” I called down the hallway as I flung the door open.

 

She looked over her shoulder, seeming for a second like a deer in the headlights. Then she composed herself and smiled. “Hermione. What’s up?”

 

“What was that?” I asked, getting right to the point. Screw being in love with her, I wanted to know what was going on. I wanted to know she hadn’t just committed a felony. My heart was pounding in my chest.

 

“What was what?” she asked innocently, but I could see her shifting uncomfortably, despite her clueless-sounding voice.

 

“In the library! What were you doing?” My voice rose a little. Was I wrong? Was I just standing here making a fool out of myself? But then—

 

“You mean on the computer?” she asked, looking annoyed. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” She tucked her hair behind her ear in an obnoxiously adorable way.

 

“Well, it was if it was what I think it was.” Words. I hated them then and I hate them now. But she understood what I was trying to say.

 

“Look, this doesn’t concern you, alright?” she snapped back. “I need to get going.” She turned to leave. I wondered if I’d just screwed everything up.

 

“Wait! Just give me an explanation. I don’t want to believe what I’m thinking right now.” Had that helped my case? I wasn’t sure.

 

“You mean that I was doing something illegal?”

 

In hindsight, she definitely admitted it way too fast. I should have understood that it was a plea for help. But I didn’t and instead, I lamely said, “Yeah.”

 

“Do you want a believable answer or a clearly fake one?”

 

“Ginny…”

 

“Get out of my way,” she said, pushing past me.

 

I watched her go. My heart sunk.

 

I was in love with a criminal. Great. What were my parents going to say?

 

And ignoring all that, why had she told me any of what she did? That was what I was the main thing left to wonder about, along with whether or not it was enough evidence that she was up to no good or in a bad situation.

 

I eventually decided that it did, indeed, present enough evidence to prove I was right. That, I felt, should have made me satisfied because showed I hadn’t just been on some wild goose chase, but I didn’t. I felt frustrated and worried and concerned for Ginny.

 

So, I guess that my real question at the end of all of that, was this:

 

What was Ginny involved in?

 

And, who was she working for? Who did she send that message to? Could it have been Voldemort? If so, why?

 

No matter who it was, she had to have been forced to do it, right? She wasn’t the type of person who would just go and do something like that, something illegal, something totally uncalled for. Maybe there was a reason.

 

She was sweet and kind and nice and wonderful and she just wouldn’t.

 

Right?

 


	2. A Detail is (Partially) Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do realize that 4k words might be a bit excessive for one chapter… Oh well; it’s what happened. Also, I do apologize, but the first part of this chapter is a little slow. I’m really sorry about it! I really tried to make it decent! Nevertheless, I hope you guys are liking this so far! Also, I forgot to mention last time—this story is also on FFN, if you prefer to read on there.

 

Weeks passed.

 

Ginny was still acting strangely, and her odd behavior became increasingly more apparent. I started seeing her in places that the shadiest people in town hung out in, trading things discreetly, and her grades were dropping.

 

It was like I saw her at the library and then the floodgates were opened.

 

I didn’t talk to her again about what happened there, but I almost wondered if she was making things clearer specifically for me. Just the way she would catch my eye sometimes, or wait for a second before rounding a corner, almost like she wanted me to see.

 

But she didn’t talk to me and never looked at me when she must have known I was watching.

 

I had no idea what to do at that point, though. I was in way over my head.

 

So, of course, I did the only thing I could think to do—I went to the headmaster of our school, Albus Dumbledore.

 

Long ago, he had been the detective who brought in Voldemort when no one else could. Just based on that, he could have been anything, done anything with his life—and yet he chose to be a teacher.

 

Anyway, my point is, out of everyone I knew, he was probably the person I could trust most.

 

After all—Ron? He would insist that nothing was wrong and become upset at me even bringing it up. Harry? He would just tell Ron and then I’d be in the same situation as if I had just told Ron to begin with. And there were no other people in that school that I felt I could talk to. They were all either huge gossips or they hated me. Or both. Both at the same time was more common, actually.

 

Anyway, enough of that. It was after school on a Monday near the beginning of November that I went to talk to him. I knocked softly on the door, then crept in when he told me to enter.

 

“Headmaster,” I began slowly.

 

“Yes?”

 

I decided to cut right to it. “I’m worried about Ginny, and I wasn’t sure who else to turn to.”

 

“How so? I trust you to solve your own social issues, my dear, so what is it that troubles you about Ginny?”

 

“Well… I think she could be in trouble,” I said, beginning to feel guilty, like I shouldn’t have come here to begin with. He was right, after all—I could solve my own social issues. I felt my face redden a little bit.

 

But I also knew this was different—I wasn’t sure that this was something I should be meddling in. It would be better to involve someone that knew what they were doing.

 

“Please, do elaborate,” Professor Dumbledore lightly encouraged.

 

“I… I think she might be involved in something dangerous, and quite possibly illegal, too,” I blurted all at once.

 

Dumbledore’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “I am afraid that there is not much help I can provide for you if you have no proof. I can, of course, speak to her about this issue. However—”

 

“No, that’s not necessary,” I said quickly. How could he already tell that I had nothing to back my claim? Did I really come off as that stupid?  


_Don’t think like that, Hermione,_ I scolded myself.

 

I knew I was plenty smart enough, and so did my teachers. I also knew I had to work on the social anxiety and how I was always worrying about how I came across to people.

 

He continued as he arched a gray eyebrow, “Have you spoken to her about it?”

 

“Well… no,” I said, looking down at my hands, suddenly feeling quite foolish. “Sort of,” I amended. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here today.” I shifted, wringing my hands together as I did so.

 

“No, you followed your instincts, and you cannot be blamed for that. You generally have good judgment.” I hoped I was just imagining the disappointment in his voice. “And I am not saying that I do not believe you—I do, I have noticed Ms. Weasley’s odd behavior, too. But, as I said before, we have no proof. Why don’t you talk to her, or keep an eye on her? That wouldn’t hurt.” He smiled kindly at me, which made me want to squirm, sent me into the feeling of being an invalid. It shouldn’t have hit me so hard, but it did. That’s what happens when you’re never wrong—you don’t know how to be. “Besides,” he said, moving on, “you are a TA in her science class this next trimester, which is only just around the corner, and you will also have PE and robotics with her. That’s more than half her classes; I’m sure you can gather enough information from that. I trust you to figure this out.”

 

I wondered briefly why he seemed so calm about this—then I reminded myself that he seemed calm about everything, no matter how drastic the situation. Besides—he said that he believed me, but part of me felt that he was just doing so to make me feel better.

 

So instead of saying anything, I nodded briefly, then rose from my seat.

 

“Thank you for coming to me with this, Ms. Granger,” he said as I turned to the door. “Notify me if anything changes. I appreciate your concern for your friends and classes.”

 

“Erm… yeah,” I said slowly. “Yes, of course.” I urged myself to pull it together as I stepped out of Dumbledore’s office.

 

These were going to be a hectic next few weeks.

  


At the end of November, Ginny cut class. Twice.

 

It was the first real piece of proof I had of anything, as it was certainly unlike her.

 

I felt that that proved my point, but, when I brought up her strange behavior to Harry and Ron, they both dismissed it as her having a stressful start to the year—after all, sophomore year was hard on all of us, wasn’t it? “She’s a good kid,” they reasoned. “She’ll get back on the right track.”

 

This, of course, frustrated me—how could they not see what was happening?

 

Perhaps it would have helped if I told them what had happened in the library, but something stopped me. I wasn’t sure what—loyalty, cowardice, the fear of being wrong, or just not wanting to. I couldn’t figure it out, which was a new feeling for me. I was pretty sure I didn’t like it, though.

 

Regardless, I started hanging around Ginny a little bit more. After all, that wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

 

Well, maybe it hurt me a little bit.

 

I tried really hard to stay cool, I really did, but honestly—you try suddenly being friends with the girl you’re hopelessly in love after years of ignoring her (all the while, she really only views you as her older brother’s awkward friend) but instead of actually trying to be her friend, you’re busy trying to figure out if she’s involved in shady shit.

 

Oh, the life of a teenager.

 

Always exciting, right?

 

Now, okay, I know what you’re thinking—Hermione, why couldn’t you just flirt with her and call it good, like a normal person your age? Why did you have to stick your nose in her business when it didn’t belong there?

 

Well, I don’t really have much of an answer for you.

 

All I know is that I really cared about her. I loved her to pieces—still do, actually. And I wanted to keep her safe. I felt like there had to be something more going on than what I’d seen in the library, and I wanted to know. I also had a feeling it could be really bad.

 

When I started hanging around her, it was a little awkward. Neither of us was quite sure if the other would bring up the incident, but I guess we were both too scared of what the other would do. But being friends was actually really nice, and I began to wonder why I had never thought of starting something like it before.

 

Well, okay, it wasn’t actually me who started things. I walked into the lunch hall one afternoon, heading to my usual spot near Ron and Harry and Neville and the like when I heard her voice.

 

“Hey, ‘Mione!”

 

I turned around. I hated it when people called me that, but I didn’t tell her to stop. I liked it too much—her calling me a nickname. I knew I should have felt distrusting toward her, after everything… but it was really nice to not hear any anger in her voice whatsoever.

 

“Er… yeah?” I said, unsure of myself. I hadn’t spoken to her since the library all those weeks ago.

 

“Come sit with us,” she said, smiling at me.

 

_Is this a trick? A joke of some sort?_

 

“Oh, sure,” I said before I could think too hard about it, trying to ignore my self-doubts.

 

Her friends all smiled at me, and I wondered if it had all just been a misunderstanding. She’s seemed so calm right here, right now, so kind, and so did her friends.

 

“We were wondering if you would help us on that science project,” one of them said. His name started with a “C”—at least, I was pretty sure—but I couldn’t get much farther than that while trying to place him.

 

The new trimester had just started and I was a TA in their class. A huge project had just been assigned.

 

I frowned. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

 

“Well, no one ever _said_ it wasn’t,” Ginny reasoned.

 

“I guess not,” I began hesitantly. Did I help? Did I tell them to talk to the teacher? I hated situations like this. “Look,” I decided, “I’ll read over your ideas and tell you what I think and if you really need help getting it to work, I’ll give you some suggestions. How’s that?” I made a mental note to ask the teacher about all this. Whatever I felt about Ginny, I wasn’t going to help her cheat.

 

“Great!” Ginny said. “You’re the best!” She gave me a stunning grin that sent my heart fluttering about in my chest, but there was something that held me back from smiling—

 

“Should I go now?” I asked, slightly sad. If this was all they’d called me over for...

 

“No, stay,” Ginny said, interrupting my train of thought. “We don’t hang out enough, and me and my friends all like you.”

 

She had never shown any interest in “hanging out” before. I wondered what this was about, wondered if it would end before it had even begun, but the following day she asked me to join again, and the day after that, too.

 

I started going back and forth between sitting with Ginny and sitting with Harry and Ron, and before long, I began to feel like maybe Ginny wanted me to sit with her because she actually liked me. Not like _that_ , though. My hopes weren’t quite that high… yet.

 

And maybe that was partially the case, but I eventually found out that she did, in fact, have ulterior motives. But I didn’t know that for a while after.

 

Regardless, we continued as actual friends, seeing as I really didn’t know anything at that point. In some ways, that comforted me—I didn’t know why she was acting oddly; it was her business and I could be totally misinterpreting it, right? It didn’t help that we avoided talking about whatever it was she was up to after school, and about that day in the library—it was just an unspoken agreement between the two of us.

 

But I drew the line when she started ditching. The small curiosity that was there, the brushing things off, the thinking that perhaps it wasn’t what it looked like, that all vanished that day. It really scared me. I don’t know why. Maybe it was just how scared _she_ seemed that did it, or the bruises. Or maybe it was the way her voice shook when she spoke to me.

 

I could almost have let it go as normal, teenage rebellion (or whatever people call it these days), but on that first day she cut class, she came back to the girls dormitory late that night with choke marks on her neck and an empty look in her eyes, and all I wanted to do was keep her safe.

 

I saw her and my heart started to crack. She looked so sad and broken, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just took her gently by the arm, watching her glassy-looking eyes for some kind of sign that she was alright. There wasn’t one.

 

Finally, I sat her down on the edge of her bed.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked as kindly as I could in a soft voice, hoping not to scare her away.

 

“Nothing,” she snapped. Apparently my ploy didn’t work.

 

“Well, it’s clearly not ‘nothing,’” I responded, my voice a little louder now.

 

“Why can’t you just believe me?” she asked, annoyed.

 

 _Because you don’t look fine! Because you’re clearly hurt and broken and tired and I don’t know what to do!_ “You’ve been acting so strangely lately, and now you cut class and come back with bruises on your neck, probably more elsewhere? What happened?” It didn’t come out wonderfully, but I don’t think anything I could have said would have.

 

“Look, you barely know me, Hermione. I appreciate your concern, but we only just started being friends—or whatever this is—a little bit ago. Don’t just assume you know me, okay? Why don’t you just go back to hanging out with Ron and Harry?”

 

“Ginny,” I said, a little hurt as I cursed myself for letting my temper rise. I just wanted to help.

 

“Don’t _‘Ginny’_ me, Hermione. Like I said—you should just go back to Ron and Harry.” With that, she stood and marched into the bathroom, scowling and muttering, “I’m taking a shower. No one bother me.”

 

 _But I just wanted to help,_ I thought for the millionth time as I watched her go. What did I do now?

 

Luna, who was sitting next to me now, said quietly, “Be careful with that one, dear. If she doesn’t want helping, she won’t consent to you helping.” It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was true.

 

I glanced over at her.

 

“I’m just saying,” Luna continued. “I know she’s in deep, but I don’t think there’s much anyone can do anymore.”

 

I paused. “Do you know what she’s involved in?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“I think you do.”

 

“No, I mean, what do you think she’s involved in?”

 

“I don’t… I don’t know,” I said slowly. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

 

Luna smiled slightly. “Well, I’m not supposed to know.”

 

“But you do,” I prodded.

 

“Yes, and so do you.”

 

“No, I don’t!” I snapped, frustrated. This whole night was starting to get to me.

 

“Well, you have a theory, don’t you?”  


“I suppose…” I trailed off.

 

“And?”

 

“And, what?”

 

“You’re smart enough. Use your brain. Figure out if you’re right.”

 

“How?” Why couldn’t she just tell me?

 

“Follow her, tomorrow night. See where she goes.”

 

“What? No!” As far as bad ideas went, that was at the top of my list. Because… “That’s just… weird, stalker-ish.”

 

“She wants your help.”

 

“I thought you said she didn’t want my help!”

 

“Well, she doesn’t think she does. But she does. And you’re probably the only one who can convince Pansy.”

 

“What does Pansy have to do with anything?”

 

“She just does.”

 

“But _what_?” Luna could be so frustrating.

 

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. But until then, Pansy’s involvement neither anything to concern yourself with nor any of your business.” That didn’t make any sense to me.

 

I let out an annoyed sigh. “If you aren’t going to be helpful, I’m going to leave,” I threatened.

 

“Alright,” Luna said, turning back to her book.

 

I got up, deciding I didn’t have the energy in me to fight with her to figure out what she knew, and meandered—well, “stormed” was probably a better way to describe it—back to my room, which I shared with a couple other girls from my year.

 

I flopped down on my bed with a loud sign.

 

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Lavender said. She was the bain of my existence and probably the person I hated most in that school (other than Draco Malfoy, obviously).

 

Of course, she probably wanted gossip, so I said nothing.

 

“Fine, be like that,” she sneered. “You know, maybe you should let your roommates in every now and again. Might do you some good to not lug around everything you’ve got in that brain of yours all by yourself. It’s not good to bottle everything up. You need help.”

 

I glanced over at her. “Maybe,” I murmured.

  


All through the school day, I stressed over Luna’s suggestion—to follow Ginny.

 

Something was going on, that much was certain, but what kind of friend was I to follow her around? I was already being nosey enough. Following her would be crossing a line.

 

But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like maybe it was the only option, so I decided that I would follow her for a little while only and, if nothing happened, I would just go back to the dorm and pretend it never happened.

 

Unfortunately, the next day, I didn’t see her in any of the classes we shared—but she was at breakfast, seeming to be fine—and I realized that she was cutting again, which meant that I wouldn’t be able to find her to start with.

 

So, right after school, I set to work to do so. Like Luna said—I was smart enough. I could figure it out.

 

But to do that, I first had to sneak out. That was the main problem.

 

As soon as my final class ended, I went back to my dorm, not waiting for Harry or Ron like I usually did. I ditched my bag and donned dark jeans and a black hoodie—something told me I wouldn’t want to be dressed in bright, noticeable colors.

 

My heart pounded as I did so, and I didn’t know why. All I was doing was changing. That wasn’t so conspicuous, right? If I couldn’t handle this, I certainly couldn’t handle—

 

“What are you doing?” Lavender said pointedly, interrupting my stream of thoughts and causing me to jump, half-way through changing.

 

I hadn’t noticed her there before. I turned slowly around to see her standing in the doorway.

 

“Er… changing?” It came out as a question, much more uncertain than I’d intended.

 

“Why?” Her voice sounded unpleasantly skeptical, as always.

 

“Because… I want to?” It wasn’t a very convincing argument—even I knew that.

 

“I don’t think so,” Lavender said smugly.

 

“What _do_ you think, then?” I asked, trying to keep it casual. If I wasn’t worried by her uncertainty, it might convince her it wasn’t a big deal. Unfortunately—

 

“I think you’re going somewhere—somewhere you’re not _supposed_ to, which means”—she giggled slightly— “you’re breaking the school rules! Little miss _I’m so perfect_ is leaving the school boundaries without permission! I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re not the goody-two-shoes you pretend to be!” She seemed slightly giddy. She’d been trying to catch me doing something I wasn’t supposed to for ages now, and anything I did something even remotely questionable, she got overly excited.

 

“No, Lavender, don’t do that,” I said, frustrated. Still, I tried to keep worry and concern out of my voice.

 

“Oh, and why not? Don’t you always tell all of us to immediately report when classmates are breaking the rules? Aren’t you always on our cases about turning each other in? Ha!” She grinned maliciously at me. “You’re such a hypocrite!”  


“No! That’s not—it’s not what it looks like!” I lied.

 

“Then what is it?” she asked, seeming disappointed, deflated.

 

 _Quick_ , I thought. _What’s something she’ll buy? Gossip! Always a good bet with Lavender._

 

“I’m seeing someone,” I blurted.

 

“What?” she responded, surprised and curious. My ploy had worked—at least for now..

 

“Er… yeah, I’m seeing someone, but it’s a secret. We’re meeting outside on the grounds tonight, but we… don’t want to be seen.” I filled in the blanks as I went. “We’re going to sit near the forest so that people might not notice us.” I hoped she bought it. I knew I wasn’t a great liar.

 

The knots in my stomach went away as she said while grinning, “Ooh. _Interesting_ . Well, your secret’s safe with me!” _I doubt it_ , I thought as she continued, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

 

I was pretty sure that if I gave her a name, the whole school would be whispering about it by the following morning. _And besides, it wouldn’t be a guy even if I_ were _seeing someone._ “Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, would it?” was what I finally settled on saying.

 

Lavender huffed, going back to her more sulky state. “Fine, whatever. Have fun on your secret rendezvous.”

 

 _I doubt I will._ “Er… yeah, right, sure.”

 

I finished tying back my hair and zipping up my sweatshirt.

 

Lavender frowned at me. “You can’t wear those.”

 

“What?” I had no idea what she was referring to.

 

“Those shoes, they’re too… clean. It doesn’t go with the whole ‘emo’ vibe.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “I really need to be going.”

 

“Yeah, but not in those shoes,” Lavender said. “Come on, it’ll only take a second.”

 

She started digging through her enormous shoe collection (seriously—why did one girl need about twenty sets of shoes?) and found a pair of Doc Martens. “These’ll work. Here you go. Thank me later.”

 

I stared at them skeptically, but took them anyway—she was right. Bright blue sneakers probably weren’t the best for going unnoticed.

 

I put them on, then turned to find she had cornered me, pencil eyeliner in hand.

 

“No. Not happening,” I said.

 

“Aw,” she sighed. “I thought we were going to get to do roommate-y things for once.”

 

“Sure, but not that,” I said.

 

“I just figured, you know, you’re going for the emo thing—might as well make the transformation complete! Besides, you never wear makeup!”

 

“And why should I?” I asked, getting up. I needed to be going. “It’s not like there’s a law that says I have to.” She had a tendency to press me about doing “girly” things.

 

“I suppose so,” she grumbled. “Fine. Go have fun.”

 

What surprised me most was that she actually sounded like she meant it—that she wanted me to have fun—all grumbling aside. She almost never sounded like that, so I hoped that maybe this would mean that something would change between the two of us. I also knew enough that that wasn’t likely to happen—ever.

 

I snuck out without looking back, pushing those thoughts from my head, instead focusing on one question:

 

Where would Ginny have gone?

 

I racked my brain, searching for places. The only nearby, mildly large town was Hogsmeade, but the whole place would take a while to search, and I was not the type of person that others told all the shady locations to go—I was widely regarded as one of the “good” kids. Usually, that was a good thing, but for once, I viewed it as a hindrance rather that something to keep me from harm’s way.

 

Luckily, I was also one of the “smart” kids, and I knew what to listen for if I wanted to figure out where someone was going.

 

I had been sitting with Ginny for a couple of weeks now, and every once and awhile she would mention a place called Hangleton House, but never stayed on the topic for long. From the way her friends always shifted at the mention, I could glean that it wasn’t a place they particularly enjoyed—or that they didn’t want me to know too about it.

 

I searched my brain for any other possible locations, but all I could come up with were clichés—the graveyard, the creepy old mansion down the road—nothing that really seemed like a better option than this “Hangleton House.”

 

So, I, naturally, did what later proved to be a very stupid thing.

 

I asked around—“Hey, do you know where Hangleton House is? Have you heard of Hangleton House?”

 

The general consensus was either not knowing or wanting to know why I wanted to know.

 

Eventually, after quite a bit of no luck, I spotted a streak of red hair in a crowd and knew it was her, which was better than speculation and pestering random pedestrians for information, so I decided to change tactics and follow her instead. I was worried at first I may have missed whatever important thing was to happen that night, but as I watched her round a corner into a dark alleyway, I felt in my stomach that I hadn’t.

 

I slipped into it right after her and kept as close as I dared while she knocked on the door.

 

It creaked open, sending shivers down my spine.

 

There stood a man who looked a lot like Draco Malfoy, but I knew he was not. “But who can remember pain, once it’s over?” he asked.

 

“Oh, you know me, just let me in,” Ginny snapped. “I don’t have time to memorize passwords; you know that!” She put her hands on her hips in a very teenage fashion, glaring at him. If I were he, I would have let her pass—when she got like that, she wasn’t someone to argue with!

 

But he just raised an eyebrow at her and said again, “But who can remember pain, once it’s over?”

 

She sighed, thought for a moment, then said, “All that remains of it is a shadow, not in the mind even, in the flesh. Did I get it right?”

 

He nodded silently and let her pass.

 

 _Interesting,_ I thought. _A quote from the_ Handmaid’s Tale _._

 

I paused for a second, then decided to follow. I pulled up the hood of my black sweatshirt and walked up to the door.

 

I copied Ginny’s actions—I knocked, then waited for the door to be opened. The man frowned at me, but then gave the first line and I responded with mine.

 

He cautiously let me enter, watching me skeptically all the way. “You’re new,” he said.

 

All I did was nod, avoiding eye contact.

 

Inside was what looked like a standard club—loud music, dancing, etc., but there was something about it that didn’t feel quite right. Maybe it was the men in black suits standing around the perimeter, or perhaps it was the chandelier made to look like it was constructed with human bones, but it just wasn’t normal.

 

In the midst of taking in everything in the club, it took me a few moments I spotted the cameras located all throughout the room. As soon as I noticed them, though, I ducked my head accordingly, trying to keep my face out of sight. I hoped I hadn’t been caught on video—that would be bad. My heart started to pound as the severity of the possible consequences of this began to dawn on me, especially as I saw a few people there that I recognized, which doubled the chances of being caught. I shouldn’t have been so surprised to see them, though—especially if this was all what it looked like.

 

A club of Voldemort’s.

 

It took me a moment to find Ginny again, but her red hair made her stick out, so I caught sight of her soon enough.

 

She glanced behind herself and made eye contact with me. She didn’t seem all that surprised to see me, which definitely shocked me. Maybe she was just that good at keeping her cool. She deliberately looked up at one of the cameras, then put a finger to her lips.

 

Then she vanished into the crowd, leaving me to only guess what she was trying to tell me.

 

I moved around, searching for her, across the room, down a few hallways, but I didn’t find her again. I did find a few people I recognized as convicted Death Eaters—acolytes of Voldemort—at the bar and on the dance floor. Or just brooding in a corner.

 

That confirmed my suspicions—Ginny was involved with them. That was when a horrible sinking feeling took over my stomach. How could she be with them? It just wasn’t possible. Or so I’d thought, but I wasn’t sure if I could actually deny it anymore. However, I wasn’t able to ponder all that for long before I noticed a man watching me from a table nearby.

 

I quickly looked away from him, only to notice another guy watching me from the corner.

 

Someone bumped into my side.

 

“So sorry, dear,” she drawled. “I didn’t see you there.” She gave me a twisted smile as she placed a knobby hand on my shoulder.

 

Decided to bold right about then, but that didn’t go quite as expected—

 

“Not so fast,” the woman said, her hand tightening around my arm.

 

My heart accelerated and I acted on instinct alone. I twisted away from her and squirmed through the crowd as fast as I could, my only goal to make it to the door. In my mad frenzy, I managed to jam myself through the cracked door—someone had just come in—and darted out.

 

After that, all I did was run. I sprinted down the alleyway, back toward civilization, but they were hot on my trail. It didn’t help that I was a pretty slow runner and not that good at being quiet, either.

 

I was halfway down the alley and they were about to get me when a hand reached out from a side trail, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me in.

 

“Come with me if you want to live.”

  


**Chapter Release Dates:**

 

 **Part One:** December 18, 2018

 **Part Two:** December 19, 2018

 **Combination:** December 26, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, there is a Hamilton quote in there. (“Be careful with that one, dear.” It’s from the song “Burn.”) Leave a comment and tell me what you think!


	3. A Mishap Occurs

_ “Come with me if you want to live.” _

 

My eyes met those of none other than Pansy Parkinson, wearing a hood like mine with a scarf pulled up over her nose. I only recognized her because of her voice—this year, we have many classes together. Definitely not on purpose. She wasn’t my favorite person in the world at the time, although that was about to change.

 

I stared at her blankly. “What?”

 

“Well, it was only sort of a joke. Now come on!”

 

She grabbed my wrist again and dragged me along after her, running much faster than I would have liked, zigging and zagging down streets I’d never even known existed.

 

Finally, we showed up at the door of a large mansion that didn't bode much better than Hangleton House had in my mind. It looked just as creepy that place. But, I figured, it couldn’t get much worse, right?

 

She led me up to the front door, causing me to wonder about what we were doing here. She glanced cautiously over her shoulder as we approached and she started digging through a small purse she’d been carrying. As she did this, I finally got up the courage to voice my wonders.  “Where are we?” I finally asked.

 

“My house.” It looked exactly like the kind of place she’d live. It had a similar dark vibe to it. “My parents live right in town. It’s really nice for me because I can stay there while going to school instead of having to be in one of those gross dorms. Anyway, they’re not coming home until late, so you don’t have to worry about meeting them.” She finally found her key and jammed it in the doorknob.

 

I briefly wondered why I would have to worry about her parents, but chalked it up to standard teenage embarrassment. I had other questions that needed answering first.

 

“And why, exactly, are we here?” I prodded.

 

“Well, you don’t want to lead them right into school, do you?” She pushed the door open, which creaked as it went open. Actually, so did the front steps. And the first few planks of the interior wood flooring. Perhaps everything about this house creaked. “It’d be better to wait here until they pass. That way they can’t confirm where you currently live.”

 

“I have two problems with that. First, why doesn’t it matter if they know where you live? If you’re so worried about them following me to the school, don’t you think that they’ll follow you here?”

 

She paused for a second. “Well, my parents are… sort of involved, I guess, so I am too. They already know where I live. If they find you here with me, we can both pretend not to have realized the other’s involvement. Make sense?”

 

“Yeah, I suppose. Didn’t they see you grab me, though?”

 

“Didn’t see my face,” she said. “Anyway, I trust you to figure it out. You’re pretty smart.” She patted me on the back.

 

“Er… thanks? I guess?” It came out as a question.

 

“You said there were two questions,” she prodded, already having moved on.

 

“Right. Why are you helping me? Especially since you’re somehow part of them?”

 

“First, let’s put a name to ‘them.’ ‘They,’ as I am sure you may have already guessed, are Death Eaters, and they are trying to help Voldemort return from his current state of being… well, almost dead.”

 

“Right… okay, but that still doesn’t answer my first question.”

 

“That’s none of your concern right now.”

 

“But—”

 

“Scratch that. It’s dangerous for you to know too much. If you know nothing, you can neither tell them anything nor can you get yourself into more trouble accidentally spilling information.”

 

“Why can’t I know anything?” I felt like a child whose parents had told them that they weren’t old enough to watch some movie.

 

“I literally  _ just _ said,” Pansy snapped at me. “Oh, and feel free to take off your shoes and put them right there.” She pointed at a pile of shoes in the corner near the door and a coat rack.

 

I gave a huff, but my next spout of indignation was cut off before it could even begin when a voice rang out, “What is she doing here?”

 

The voice had a serene touch to it, which made me think it was Luna. These suspicions were confirmed when I turned around to see her standing on the spiral staircase behind me.

 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” I shot back, shocked to see her. As far as I knew, Luna and Pansy weren’t friends. I was pretty sure I had never even seen them speak to each other, except once last year when they were paired together for a group project.

 

“I’m here because I am,” Luna replied, absolutely unhelpful whatsoever. “What about you?”

 

Pansy seemed to be trying to suppress a smile as I grumbled, knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere.

 

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” I resolved. Then, I decided to change back to my original topic—questions about what the heck was going on—and asked, “That place was something of Voldemort’s, right? So what was Ginny doing there?” Pansy had given me the answer to the first question, but the second… Not so much. I wanted to know how she was involved with all of this. After all, that’s how everything had started, right?

 

“You shouldn’t go back there,” Pansy said, avoiding the question, much to my chagrin.

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

“The answer doesn’t matter.”

 

“Yes, it does,” I countered, annoyed.

 

“No, it doesn’t.”

 

“Well, it does to me!”   
  


“Well, then, you’re going to be disappointed.” I looked away.

 

Why couldn’t they just let me in? I was part of this now, too!

 

“I’ll figure it out on my own, then!”   
  


“Don’t go back,” Pansy told me again. She sounded more concerned this time—like now she thought I might actually be brash enough to do it.

 

“You shouldn’t meddle in this,” Luna agreed after I was silent for a little while.

 

“Weren’t you the one who told me to follow Ginny tonight?”

 

Luna winced. “I didn’t know everything that was going on at that point. I knew bits and pieces and…” She trailed off, staring out the window. “What pretty stars,” she said, smiling. “Sorry, anyway… I started on this long before you did. I had most of the story… Then Pansy finally filled me in on all the little details. I knew basically everything. It just wasn’t  _ everything _ everything.”

 

I pursed my lips.

 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Pansy said. “I can’t have you messing everything up, and to keep that from happening, you have to drop this. Besides—this is really dangerous.”

 

I sighed. I wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. “Fine. I’ll drop it,” I lied.

 

Pansy watched me skeptically for a moment. I wondered if I’d given up too easily. I never had been great at lying. But then she said, “Okay. Good. Thank you. Why don’t you stay here for tonight, just to be safe? What you did tonight was really dangerous—we can’t have them following you around.”

 

“What about your parents?” I asked. “Won’t they care that I’m here?” My parents definitely would, but perhaps they were stricter than some.

 

“They’re out of town for a while,” she said. I frowned. Hadn’t she said earlier that they were coming home today, just late?

 

I decided not to press for information—she already seemed testy enough; I wasn’t about to go snooping through her family business.

 

“Okay,” I said slowly. “I’ll stay.” It couldn’t hurt, right? I could defend myself well enough and I had my phone with me in case she tried to pull something, but I didn’t think she was like that. Besides, I had known Luna well (ish) for a long time now. She wouldn’t be hanging out with a bad person.

  
  


_ Ginny _

 

It was getting late and he hadn’t decided to see me yet. There had been a large disturbance—probably Hermione’s fault—and he had kept me waiting for a few hours now.

 

I hoped she was okay, though, even if she’d caused such a ruckus. She probably hadn’t meant to.

 

I had tried to tell her to be quiet, to stop following me so closely, but she hadn’t taken the hint—last I’d seen, they’d been chasing her out, which meant she probably hadn’t paid too much attention to not being noticed.

 

I hoped that I hadn’t been found out—or worse, that Hermione had been hurt. I had been counting on her help, but not at her own risk.

 

“Weasley,” Rookwood snapped at me.

 

I jumped. “What?”

 

“He wants to see you now.”

 

“Finally,” I grumbled.

 

“You be respectful, now, dear,” he said. I hated it when he called me that. “He’s been very busy these past few hours. Be grateful you get to see him at all today—he could have kept you waiting here until morning.”

 

I nodded absentmindedly, having already tuned him out. I really didn’t care what he had to say.

 

“Just let me in.”

 

He sighed and opened the door to the Office. The “Office” was what we called it—don’t ask me why. I wasn’t here when someone came up with that  _ wonderfully _ creative name.

 

Regardless, I walked into the dimly lit room, silent as a ghost.

 

“You have a tail,” came a sleek, slithery voice, which sounded as cold as the room felt. “And she must be cut out.”

 

“Yes, my liege,” I replied calmly. I hated calling him that, but, I supposed, he could probably kill me for not referring to him properly.

 

“That Granger girl caused quite a commotion today.” I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. He knew her name. “She was smart enough to find this place—and then to enter unopposed—without us knowing. That is dangerous. Now, you’re a smart girl, too. Can you ditch her, or will she end up in a ditch herself?” It was a threat.

 

“No, sir. I will find a way to stop her from following me, sir.”

 

“Excellent.” He gave me a cold smile that drew any remaining heat from the room. “I knew I could count on you, my dear. Now, go, do whatever you must do.”

 

I stepped out of the Office, glad to be out of that badly-lit monstrosity that the others dared to refer to as though it were a place one could actually work in. Excuse the minor rambling of that sentence.

 

Hell, scratch work—I doubted anyone could focus on anything besides their grave fear of  _ him _ in that room—but I supposed that was the point.

 

I let out a sigh as I slipped first into the loud main room—the club—and then out into Hogsmeade, relinquishing my prior thoughts I had been hung up in. Now it was time to do the difficult thinking.

 

I had a problem now, as I had assumed that Hermione wouldn’t be dumb enough to get caught. Evidently, I was wrong. That set me back quite a bit. I had been  _ counting _ on her help. Counting on it.

 

I willed myself not to start crying and to keep my composure.

 

There was no one else I trusted to put the pieces together—none of my family were smart enough or brave enough to go the extra mile, and none of my friends cared enough.

 

Besides Hermione.

 

But I couldn’t put her in danger like this—if she died while trying to help me, then I would feel worse than if I were just stuck here.

 

I had needed  _ her  _ to put things together.

 

Now I was on my own.

  
  


_ Hermione _

 

I found a coffee maker in the kitchen.

 

At least it meant that Pansy was semi-civilized.

 

I was extremely tired after last night’s ordeal, plus I hadn’t fallen asleep until nearly four in the morning due to anxiety and stress that wouldn’t leave me alone.

 

Regardless, I was on my sixth (or was it seventh?) cup of coffee when Pansy finally came out of her bedroom. She was in sweatpants and a tank top and her hair was a mess.

 

She looked tired, too.

 

“Coffee?” I asked, jittering a little.

 

She gave a grunt of agreement and snatched a cup from the cupboard, allowing me to pour some for her.

 

We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping our coffee together.

 

“I’m part of an investigation,” she finally said. “I’ve gotten permission to share some details with you, but not all.”

 

“Alright,” I said, hopefully. This was progress. “Are you investigating Voldemort, then?”

 

“Well, yeah, I guess.” She was quiet for a little while longer, slurping some of her coffee. “We’re trying to shut down his operation, really,” she said at last. “The—my organization,” she caught herself, careful not to let me know who was backing her, “has been tracking the movements of his followers since he was first apprehended. They wanted to catch as many of them as possible. In recent years, the flow has stopped a little, but as soon as he escaped, they realized that they needed to get back in as deep as they could. Apprehending him was of the utmost importance. I don’t even know how I got involved in all of this… It’s all a bit of a blur, really, and it doesn’t really affect you.”

 

I wondered how much of this she’d really been authorized to tell me. It didn’t sound like the sort of thing I would just be allowed to know, but I didn’t push it. Instead, I asked, “Does this have to do with why what you said about your parents didn’t line up?”

 

She frowned. “I don’t know. What did I say?”

 

“First, when I got here, you said that they would be home late. Then, later, you said they were out of town for a while.”

 

She laughed. “Sorry. The first one was the old story. This isn’t my house. It belonged to my parents up until this most recent August, but they moved out of it at the end of summer. I’m letting my organization use it as a sort of safe house. Plus, I can stay here, and bring others here, without it seeming weird—most people will either not think twice, since my parents used to be here all the time, or they just assume that my parents are away. Which, I guess, they are. They’re helping with an operation of Voldemort’s up north.”

 

I nodded. “What is your organization? Police? Some sort of private detective group? Or is it higher up? FBI?”

 

“Well, I’m really not supposed to say.”

 

“Okay. FBI, then?” It seemed like a logical assumption.

 

She laughed slightly, but whatever she was going to say next was cut off by Luna walking out of the same bedroom that Pansy had been in.

 

“Good morning,” she said tiredly. She was wearing an extremely thin nightgown. “Oh,” she said belatedly. “Should I change?” The question was directed at me.   
  
“Er… no, you’re fine,” I said awkwardly.

 

She smiled. “I’ll go change.” She vanished back into the room for a moment.

 

I raised an eyebrow at Pansy. Now I had an answer as to what Luna was doing at Pansy’s house.

 

“Are you two…?”

 

She blushed, then nodded.

  
“Wow. I never would have thought you two would work well together in a relationship.”

 

Pansy shrugged. “Me neither. But we do. I really like her.”

 

“That’s good,” I said, and then we fell into silence, sipping our coffee.

 

Breaking the uncomfortable tension, she said, “Anyway, Ginny wasn’t initially involved with me and my own, but now one of my jobs is to keep an eye on her, keep her safe. She’s a valuable asset.”

 

“An asset?”

 

“That’s how my agency views her.”

 

“She’s a person,” I said, annoyed. “If you’re protecting her, it should be to protect her. She’s just a kid.”

 

“So am I, and yet here I am. Listen, we need her to be able to testify for us if it comes to that. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t put her through that. I agree with you—she’s just a kid.”

  
  


“She went to a bar with lots of Death Eaters in it,” I told Dumbledore later that same day.

 

We were in his office again, and he was watching me apprehensively. “That still isn’t much proof, but it’s more. You cannot follow her out of school again.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It isn’t safe, as I am sure Miss Parkinson already warned you.”

 

“How do you know about Pansy?” I asked. I hadn’t mentioned any of what had happened with her, as I didn’t know what I was allowed to tell others.

 

“That is not your concern right now,” he responded calmly. I was getting frustrated by how often people kept telling me that. Sooner or later, I was going to get answers, no matter what. “Keep an eye on her during school, but no more than that,” he continued.

 

“Fine,” I agreed. He was probably right, as much as I hated to admit it.

  
  


Ginny cornered me after dinner. We hadn’t sat together all day. In fact, I hadn’t even seen her since the following night.

 

“You have to stop following me.”

 

“So everyone says.”

 

“Who have you told?”

 

“Just Pansy, who saved me from your buddies last night.”

 

Ginny let out a breath. “You can’t mention her in that sort of context.”

 

I frowned. “Why not?”

 

“Just trust me, alright?”

 

“I’m really starting to get sick of no one giving me any answers,” I snapped. It was true. I was invested now; there were things I really wanted to know.

 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t want to land her in any more hot water than is necessary. She’s on our side, though, and people are always listening. I can’t have someone hear something they shouldn’t.”

 

“And what is ‘our’ side, exactly?”

 

“Not his.”

 

We both understood what she meant by that, even though she couldn’t say any more.

 

“Give it a rest. Please. Before someone gets hurt.”

 

**Chapter Release Date:** December 25, 2018

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone!


	4. A Plan is Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The “group project” mentioned in this chapter is the basis on Chemistry’s storyline, for anyone that hasn’t read it. (And if you haven’t, I don’t blame you—it wasn’t great. My writing has improved a lot over the past year.)

****_ Blackmail,  _ I thought as I laid awake in my bed that night.

 

That was the only possible explanation.

 

Or Ginny was working with Pansy’s organization, but that seemed doubtful for a few reasons.

 

First, she and Pansy were never seen together.

 

Second, the way Pansy had mentioned protecting her, how that wasn’t one of the things she had initially been tasked with doing, made it seem like Ginny wasn’t originally part of the operation. Ginny could, of course, have also just joined later, but she had been part of the Death Eaters before that, so she had to have had a different reason for initially joining Voldemort’s ranks.

 

That reason, I figured, must be blackmail. It seemed the only reasonable solution. How could someone fake such a sunny disposition for so long, clearly be against what Voldemort had been preaching all those years, and then turn around and join them? Unless I was missing a major part of the story, it didn’t seem that plausible.

 

But that still left one major hole in this whole thing—why did they want her to be a part of them? If I was right about everything, they had wanted her badly enough to do quite a bit to get her.

 

Why?

 

If they wanted her as a spy, they really could have used anyone else. Even if they wanted someone young, Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson were both children of Death Eaters and were both plenty smart enough. They could have easily done the job. Why not one of them? Obviously Pansy hadn’t believed in them enough to stick with them and had been turned easily. So perhaps they didn’t trust one of their own to be loyal enough.

 

After all, I couldn’t help but feel like growing up in their ranks wouldn’t have been the greatest thing.

 

But Malfoy and his lackeys definitely seemed loyal enough, and so had Pansy, even if she later proved not to. So that didn’t seem like a good enough answer.

 

But then still—why Ginny?

 

What did she have that they wanted?

  
A father that was part of the government? Being in a close position to Dumbledore? She was one of his favorites, after all.

 

But that didn’t seem like enough, did it? There were plenty of people who met both of those requirements. So why not choose someone less likely to turn on them than her, if they had to blackmail her?   
  


What was I missing?

  
  


I was careful after that.

 

I consciously made an effort not to talk to Pansy any more than I had before so as not to draw any unwanted attention to her. That meant that the only updates I got were from Luna when we were completely alone—which wasn’t very often.

 

I didn’t follow Ginny outside of school, but I did keep an eye on her—she was in some deep shit and I wanted her to be okay.

 

Over the past few weeks, I’d learned a lot about her. And instead of making me want to run, it made me want to be closer to her.

 

But regardless, I didn’t pressure her about giving me the whole story—she was scared, I could tell that much, and I didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t tell me anything. If she wanted to talk, she could when it was best for her.

 

As the new trimester came around, I ended up with a few more classes with her, and I started to notice that she seemed more down. I hadn’t been sitting with her as much, but when I did, I could tell that there were discrepancies between when she was in class and when she was with her friends. She seemed more down and depressed—and scarily more  _ real _ —in her classes. With her friends, she seemed… normal. And that worried me.

 

Maybe it was because when she was in class she didn’t have all her friends watching her constantly.

 

But she was definitely down. Something was wrong—obviously—but it was becoming more clear in her everyday actions. That concerned me.

 

She wasn’t going to be able to keep doing this much longer—I wouldn’t have been, either—but I had no idea what to do to help her.

 

And, of course, Pansy kept telling me not to get involved, that it was being handled, that my meddling would only make things worse, but sometimes I wondered how true that was.

 

Would my meddling really make things worse? If Ginny didn’t make it out because she was kept in a place she shouldn’t have been in to begin with, then maybe meddling was required, especially if no one else was going to do it.

 

But I understood, at least, that being involved in this would be dangerous to me, too, and to Ginny. Not to mention that I didn’t know the whole story—I could easily screw something up.

 

I wanted to help, though.

 

So, for a short-term solution, I just kept hanging out with Ginny, tried to be a supportive friend. Sometimes we’d share secret, meaningful glances. Her eyes would seem to ask me not to tell anyone, and I would try to tell her back that I wouldn’t.

 

Like the event in the library, we never spoke about it out loud after that moment in the hallway. She avoided me for a while after that, but then drifted back, like she wanted to be near someone that understood what she was going through.

 

We still didn’t talk about it, though. Nor did I with anyone else. I didn’t even mention anything to Harry or Ron, as I didn’t want them to do something stupid like I knew they probably would. One inexperienced idiot in this whole mess was enough. The two of them added to the whole thing would be an ugly trainwreck that Pansy would—and rightfully so—blame entirely on me. I didn’t want to deal with that.

 

Besides, I was pretty sure that Harry had some crush problems of his own—although I was willing to bet that they weren’t quite as bad as mine. I was pretty sure he was secretly falling for Draco Malfoy, which was annoying and he probably felt like it would be frowned upon, but at least he didn’t have to deal with all the shadows and spies that I did.

 

Now, not only that, but to make matters, worse, I slipped up and told the two of them that I was in love with Ginny.

 

“I wish I had a girlfriend,” Ron had said.

 

“Man, me too,” I responded without thinking.

 

“What?” Ron said.

 

“What?” I said back, realizing what I’d implied.

 

Harry let out a slight snort. “Er… ‘Mione?”   
  


“Er. Right.” I felt my face heat.

 

“Did you mean…?” Ron trailed off.

 

I was silent.

 

“Well, I mean, that’s fine,” Ron said. “We don’t care if you’re… gay.”

 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you would. Well, I knew Harry wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure about you.”   
  


Harry coughed. “What?”

 

“Oh. Sorry, I thought you were, too.”   
  
“No!” he said quickly.

 

I raised an eyebrow that was an utter lie.

 

“No,” he said again. “We all like girls here.”

 

I smiled. “Alright. Sure. Still have a crush on Ginny, then?”   
  


“Yeah. What’s your point?” he asked.

 

“Nothing. I’m just saying she doesn’t really seem like your type.”

 

“Hey, she’s nice, pretty, smart! What’s not to like?”   
  


“Nothing. I’m not saying she’s not hot or anything.”

 

It was Ron’s turn to snort.

 

“Sorry,” I said. “Anyway, I’m just saying that you’re never… I don’t know, awkward around her, watching her, doing little things for her, trying to hang out with her.”

 

“What, like you are?” Harry asked, seeming smug until he realized what he’d said. “Wait. Do you have a crush on her?”

 

“Mm… I’m unable to comment at this time.” I offered a small smile as I picked up my books. “I’ll see you guys later in chemistry.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Harry groaned—we had a huge group project coming up and he had to work with Malfoy, which he wasn’t particularly thrilled about. Well, he made a huge deal about it, anyway, but as I said before—I had theories of my own.

 

I walked to class, a slight smile on my face. 

 

My heart was pounding, blood rushing past my eyes. I hadn’t been nervous in the moment, but now it was catching up with me. I was happy, though. I knew I shouldn’t have been worried about telling Harry and Ron. I had always known they would love me no matter what—we had been friends for a few years now, even though I had just moved to this school last December, and I knew that they wouldn’t give up on me.

 

But it’s the sort of thing you can never guarantee. Sometimes the people closest to you don’t support you for something you can’t change, and you have to accept that. And I was worried that that would be me—left by my only friends. I didn’t want it to be.

 

I sat down in chemistry, let out a breath, leaned back, and decided that I was going to talk to Ginny after school.

  
  


“Are you okay?”

 

“Why do you care? I’m just a lost cause. Give up on me, already, Hermione. I don’t want you involved in this, so just leave me be.”

 

“You don’t want to be a part of all of this.” It wasn’t a question. I already knew the answer. “I want to help you.”

 

She met my eyes and I saw something in her’s that I hadn’t seen before—fear.

 

“You need to stay away.”

 

“I want to help,” I whispered.

 

“Why? Up until a few months ago, we’d never even spoken to each other besides a few quick greetings.”

 

“We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

 

“But we weren’t before. Why?”

 

She was smart. It was one of the things I liked about her.

 

“I’ve always liked you, Ginny.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Can you stop asking why and just accept it?”

 

“I’m in a really difficult spot,” she whispered. “I don’t know who I can trust.” Her voice wobbled. “I don’t want to die, Hermione, and I don’t want him to hurt my family. I have to be so, so careful.”

 

I wrapped my arms around her as she started to cry. I stroked her long, soft hair, whispering that it would be alright, that it would turn out fine, but both of us knew I could never truly promise any of it.

 

Finally, I had to ask about what she’d said.

 

“Did he threaten your family?”

 

“Yeah,” she whispered.

 

We had taken to sitting against the wall. We probably weren’t supposed to be out this late, but no one had come to scold us just yet.

 

“Why?” I asked what I’d been wondering for a while now.

 

She didn’t respond, leaving me to only speculate, to continue wondering as before.

 

“He wouldn’t be pleased to find out that someone knows. Please don’t mention this to anyone,” she murmured.

 

“Okay,” I said into her hair. It smelled like vanilla and mint.

 

“We should go to bed,” Ginny said. She sounded reluctant. “All of my roommates are gone,” she then said. At first, I wasn’t sure why, but then I realized she didn’t want to be alone and was hoping for me to offer for her to…

 

“Stay in my dorm tonight. Two of my dorm mates have already left for winter break, so there are some empty beds, and I’m sure that the others wouldn’t mind if you stayed in there for tonight.”

 

Ginny nodded. “That might be nice,” she said as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and we headed up the stairs.

 

Over the past few weeks, I think I had become one of her best friends. She wasn’t very close to many people,  which made me happy to be able to be there for her—even with all of the shit we were suddenly dealing with.

  
  


“We’re making a move soon,” Pansy told me. We were alone in a classroom.

 

“I think that a lot of people in there don’t want to be. With the Death Eaters, I mean,” I said.

 

“I know. We’ve taken that into account.”

 

“I talked to Ginny yesterday. I don’t think she’s in a good place.”

 

“Mentally or in this whole mess?”

 

“Both.”

 

Pansy nodded. “I’m talking to Dumbledore about this later today. He’s been helping with the case for a few months now, being the one who originally took down Voldemort. You could come.”

 

“He’s been helping?” I asked, shocked.

 

“Yeah,” Pansy said. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

 

“I just… I’ve been talking to him about this for ages, and he keeps telling me that there’s nothing he can do.”

 

Pansy frowned. “Well, I doubt he would ever let someone your age handle something like this all by them self. When did you start talking to him about this? And what did you say?”

 

“At the beginning of the school year, I told him I thought that something was up with Ginny. Later I went to him and said that I thought she could be involved with the Death Eaters and that I didn’t think she would just do something like that.”

 

“Well, we didn’t involve him until a little after that. My bosses didn’t want to have to ask for help from a guy who’s about 150. I’m pretty sure that  _ he _ was the one who came to  _ us _ about helping. It was probably around mid-November.”

 

I nodded silently. I had thought that he hadn’t wanted to help, hadn’t believed me—but he had. I wasn’t sure why I’d been so stupid as to think he wouldn’t investigate on his own. As he’s said before, most rumors have a base.

 

“Anyway,” she said, “I think you’ve been a pretty big part of this. You could come with me, and I’m sure it would be fine.”

 

I nodded again. “I don’t think that Ginny will want me saying much.”

 

“What is her deal, anyway?”

 

“She’s been forced to be one of them. I don’t know why though, and she doesn’t want me to tell anyone.”

 

“Well, you’re gonna have to. I don’t want her to get caught up in all of this, be blamed for something she never wanted to do or be. She’s just a kid. She shouldn’t go to prison for something that isn’t her fault.”

  
  


“You’ll be safe soon,” I murmured into Ginny’s hair. Sometimes I hated the way that being friends with girls meant you could cuddle whenever you wanted—being a girl myself, it meant that it was always viewed as platonic.

 

“Hm?” she responded.

 

We were laying on my bed where I’d been helping her with her homework. We were alone and would be for a little while longer—my roommates liked to stay out much later than I did.

 

“Pansy and her people are making a move soon, and they’re going to work to keep you safe.”

 

She frowned. “Did you tell them about me?” She sounded angry. A reasonable inference, even considering that she’d been working with them.

 

“I—I had to, Ginny, and it’s going to help keep you safe.”

 

“You had no right to do that,” she said, frustration in her voice.

 

I felt guilty all of the sudden. “It’s to keep you safe,” I said for the third or fourth time, sitting up.

 

“Well, you could have landed me in a lot of trouble! This could  _ still _ get me in a lot of trouble. I can’t believe you,” she snapped, getting up, grabbing her jacket, and marching to the door.

 

“Come on,” I said. “Where are you going?”

 

“Out.”

 

“Wait, I’m sorry, Ginny,” I said hurriedly, but she didn’t look back, leaving me with a terrible sinking feeling that this was not going to end well. Everything was definitely heading to an end, though, that was for sure. I wasn’t sure how I knew; I could just feel that screeching halt hurtling toward us all. Something bad had begun to fall into motion.

 

**Chapter Release Date:** January 2, 2019

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I’ll see you next week for the last chapter! Also, so sorry for not posting last night—I totally spaced! My New Year’s resolution: stop being so forgetful. =)


	5. ...And They All Just Hope for the Best!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, this probably should have been two (or even three) chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, the chapter names do create one long summary—In which distant relations become friends, a detail is (partially) revealed, a mishap occurs, a plan is made, and they all just hope for the best. (In that order.)
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy the final chapter!

 

I raced out after Ginny.

 

“Wait!”

 

She glanced back, furry in her eyes.

 

“Why would you do something like this? Put me and my family in danger like this?”

 

“Listen, Pansy told whoever she’s working for about this. Not me. I thought you knew that.” Had Pansy gone behind Ginny’s back? I certainly hadn’t expected that from Pansy, but then again—she kept doing the unexpected. “And besides, I want to keep you safe. You’re quite clearly in danger, and you shouldn’t have to do this alone. I love you, Ginny, and I don’t want something bad to happen to you!”

 

“That doesn’t give you any right to sell me out like that!”

 

“I didn’t! I just—I told them a little more.” I felt guilty as I said it. “But they already knew all of the big things!” I felt tears in my eyes. “Look, I love you, and I hate watching those that I love suffer. I love you.”

 

She watched me in stunned silence, then asked slowly, “Like… friends, or…?” She trailed off.

 

“Or,” I agreed.

 

Then she did something I had never expected her to.

 

She leaned up and kissed me. It lasted seconds, maybe minutes, us just standing there, pressed up against one another.

 

Finally, I pulled back, my gaze meeting hers. And for just one moment, the two of us were just happy—happy and nothing else, and I thought that perhaps she wasn’t mad at me, the way it had seemed before.

 

Then she turned around and ran away.

 

I felt my heart sink in my chest. I had really liked that.  _ Wanted  _ that. I had assumed she had, too, since she started it but maybe…

 

Maybe she hadn’t?

  
  


“I need advice,” I said as I walked into Pansy’s house that afternoon.

 

“On what?” Luna asked at the same time that Pansy said,

 

“Don’t just come barging into my house!”

 

“Well, it’s not your house, is it?”

 

“Not legally,” she sighed, admitting I was right. “What do you need advice on? Whether or not to give up your obsession with this case? Because I think that it would be a really good idea to—”

 

“I know how you feel about me being a part of this, Pansy, but keep in mind that you haven’t really pushed me away all that hard.” She gave me a look. “Just saying.” I flopped down on the couch next to them. “But that’s not what I came here for. I’ve got… well, girl problems.”

 

“Ooh, do elaborate,” Luna prodded.

 

“See, Ginny kissed me, but she’s also mad at me, so then right afterward she ran away. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Wait, what?” Pansy asked. “Has this been, like, a thing?”

 

“Oh, sorry, I guess I probably should start from the beginning. So, I’ve got a bit of a crush on her, and we’ve been kind of friends for a while now, and I told her that you guys were… well, making a move soon—you know, with the case—and I guess I implied that you were going to try to keep her safe and she flipped out, and then she ran away, and I followed her, she got even more upset, made it sound like  _ I  _ had been the one to tell your people about her being… well, not wanting to be involved with the Death Eaters, which isn’t true—I just let them question me about things they already knew—and—”

 

“Is there a point to your run-on sentence?”

 

“Right, sorry,” I said. “The point is, she was upset with me, I told her that everything that I’ve done has been because I love her… well, I said something along those lines. Anyway, she kissed me. It was really nice.”

 

“And what’s the problem again?” Pansy asked.

 

“Then I pulled away to tell her something and she ran away. What should I do?”

 

“Talk to her,” Pansy suggested, which I found completely unhelpful. She must have seen something in my expression and so then elaborated, “Do you know  _ why _ she ran away?” to which I shook my head. “Then you should try to understand before you launch into anything extravagant. Don’t overthink things; just talk to her. It’s the best thing that you can do in a relationship.” She made it seem much simpler than I had been making it in my head.

 

“I guess you make a really good point,” I agreed. “What should I say, then?”

 

“Well, just ask her why she did it. That’s what you’re wondering, right?” I nodded. “So, ask that.” I shot her a look. She shrugged. “It’s true. Just try it. If you’re really meant for each other, you can talk. That doesn’t mean that it’s always easy, but it does mean that you try.”

 

That’s stuck with me for a long time now. At the time that Pansy said it, I didn’t understand exactly how much it’s true. But through good and bad times, I’ve learned that honesty is the best thing when talking to those that you love. Anyway.

  
  


I decided that Pansy was right and went to talk to Ginny later that evening. I wasn’t sure what she’d say—and I was terrified beyond belief that she’d say she didn’t really want to be with me, that she’d made a mistake, that it was a spur of the moment thing—but knowing was better than not.

 

Unfortunately, my journey did not go uninterrupted.

 

I intended to speak to Ginny directly after dinner, as I’d be able to see where she went from the mess hall and hopefully be able to snag a moment alone, but my friends had other ideas.

 

As soon as we were dismissed, I shot from my seat, ready to get talking—the sooner the better, right? Procrastination only makes anxiety worse, after all.

 

“Where are you off to?” Ron asked, making me stop.

 

“Er… I was hoping to catch someone real quick before bed,” I said.

 

“Oh, well,” he glanced at Harry. “We were kind of hoping that you’d stay for a game of chess. You never play with us anymore, ‘Mione, and we wanted to, you know, get back to that.”

 

“It really can’t wait,” I said, eager to be getting going. “But I’ll play with you another time.”

 

“That’s alright,” Harry said, nodding understandingly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what’s it over?”

 

“Well…” I debated telling the truth. I decided to go with a version of it. “I kissed Ginny this morning, but I think she’s mad at me about it, or something.” Mostly honest.

 

“That’s what she was upset about?” Ron asked. “It seemed like a lot more than that!”

 

“Well, there was some stuff that happened before that which might be part of it. I kind of… told some people some things that she didn’t want me to tell them. Is she really that upset about it?”

 

“Well, she was sobbing for ages earlier today,” he said. It was the weekend. “She wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but if it was you, you need to go fix it.” He glared at me. He tended to be pretty protective of his little sister.

 

I nodded quickly at him, feeling guilty all of the sudden. He was right. I did need to fix this.

 

But now I didn’t know where she was. She definitely wasn’t in the Great Hall anymore, but that still left the rest of the school—and grounds, and town, I realized—up for grabs.

 

I thought I remembered her going left, which was the direction of our commons (and also the front door of the school, unfortunately), so I decided to start there.

 

I went up to hers, first, but she, unfortunately, was nowhere to be found. I wasn’t too surprised, though. She didn’t seem to like her roommates too much and therefore wasn’t around her dorm a lot.

 

I decided, then, to check mine, which I felt was a doubtful location, but she had spent a lot of time there lately and had become friends with Lavender, so I figured it wasn’t too much of a stretch.

 

But I didn’t find her there, which left me at a loss as to where she could be. The library, I supposed, was the only other school-run place that was still open at this time, and seemed like the only other place she might be, so I headed there. In the process, I asked various people if they’d seen her, but the general consensus was that either they hadn’t, or they’d seen her heading toward the commons, neither of which helped me.

 

In the library, which was right next to the front entrance, I asked around about Ginny, but no one knew. I began to search up and down the isles. At that point, I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t find her. After all, she did have a tendency to not be found unless she wanted to be.

 

I decided she probably wasn’t in the library and headed out the front doors of the facility, miraculously unspotted (we weren’t allowed outside after dark).

 

I glanced around, not really expecting to find anything, but stumbled upon a dark blue bag, the kind that you sling over one shoulder that latches on one side like a purse.

 

But it wasn’t just any bag, I realized with a growing sense of dread.

 

It was Ginny’s.

  
  


“I don’t know what to do,” I said hurriedly, my voice squeaky with worry as I concluded my story. “I’ve tried her cell, searched all around the school. I’m sure she’s not here. I think it was Voldemort.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” I said. “Please, just tell me what to do!”

 

“Come to my house,” Pansy said calmly from the other side of the line.

 

“We don’t have that kind of time!”

 

“We also don’t need to panic,” Pansy reminded me, her voice much more level than what I would have expected. “I’ll ask around and see if anyone has heard anything, but it’s really important that you don’t do anything rash.” She put a lot of stress on those last four words.

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

“Yeah, ‘don’t do anything rash,’” I repeated back. “But, if she’s been taken by Voldemort, she doesn’t have the time for us to just sit on our asses and do nothing! You, of everyone, should know that! Please, Pansy.” I knew I sounded desperate. But why didn’t she get it?

 

“We can’t just go barging in there. They already know that you’ve been trailing Ginny, alright? You can’t go back there, and it would be foolish to call in a strike team right now. We’ve got a working plan, and I don’t want to eliminate that for a hunch, alright?”

 

“Do you not believe me?” I asked, almost hurt.

 

“I—no, Hermione, I do believe you,” she said with a sigh. “Listen, I’ve already gotten in trouble for involving you in this, alright? I don’t want to lose this job.” She sounded just as desperate as I felt. She also sounded regretful, which made me feel better—maybe she wasn’t totally righting me off, after all. “This could be my only way out of the legacy that my parents have built.”

 

“Can’t we do anything?” I couldn’t handle if something happened to Ginny.

 

“Listen, I’ll have Luna see if she can get into their security cameras. They’ve gotta have some in Little Hangleton, and if they do, we can see what’s going on. Alright? In the meantime, why don’t you hop on a bus and come down to my place? Cool?”

 

“Yeah,” I muttered. It was better than nothing.

 

“Okay.” She sounded like she didn’t believe me. “Just don’t do—”

 

“Anything rash,” I finished. “I know.”

 

“Okay,” she repeated.

  
  


I briefly considered doing just that—something stupid, I mean—but then decided that she was right. It would be smarter not to.

 

So, instead, I headed over to Pansy’s house as I was supposed to, where I discovered Luna looking through security camera footage upon crossing the threshold.

 

“Ah, Hermione,” she smiled. “I just got in right when you showed up! What perfect timing.”

 

“Er… yeah. I didn’t know you could do… that,” I said, gesturing to the screen.

 

“That?” she asked, seeming oblivious.

 

“Hack,” I said, irritated.

 

“Ah. Yes. I can.”

 

“It’s actually how she figured out a lot about… well, everything,” Pansy added. “She knew something was going on with me and with Ginny and with Little Hangleton. She’s really quite intuitive.”

 

Luna smiled a little bit. “Yes, but that’s not why Hermione is here right now.”

 

“Right,” Pansy said quickly as Luna put a hand on her shoulder. “What are you seeing?”

 

“Ginny’s in there,” I said, pointing at one panel on the screen. It showed Ginny tied to an… office chair? A bright red one, at that. There was no one in the room with her, though. She appeared to be unconscious and, from what I could see, was pretty banged up, a gash running along her forehead from which blood gushed. I covered my mouth.

 

“Well, I guess you were right,” Pansy murmured softly. “But… well, is there any way to know that what we’re seeing is real? It could be a trap.”

 

“Is there any way to know that what we’re seeing isn’t real?” I countered. How could she say that, with Ginny beaten and bruised right in front of her? “Why would it be a trap?”

 

Pansy sighed, shaking her head defeatedly. “I’ll call my agency. I’ll tell them what we know—not about this part, though, because that would get Luna arrested, too, and I don’t want that.”

 

“How long with that take?” I asked.

 

“Five minutes. Luna can keep an eye on the feed, and if anything changes, signal me over.”

 

“Okay,” I hesitantly agreed.

 

Pansy walked into the other room. For a couple of minutes we could hear a dull chatter, not quite audible words, but then shouting began.

 

“That’s not fair!” Pansy cried. “I swear, this is real!” Quiet for a moment. “How do I know this? Come on, look at the evidence before you.” More quiet. “Look, I’ve given you every—” A little bit more quiet. “No, wait, I have—” The final set of “quiet” began, and then….

 

“Fuck!” she yelled. There was a loud crash from something. She stormed out.

 

“I didn’t think you were that passionate about this,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“She doesn’t like to get people’s hopes up,” Luna told me.

 

“Did you add in the part about the security cams?” I asked Pansy, as that was our largest piece of information that we could have offered.

 

“No,” she snapped. “I said I wasn’t going to.”

 

“Yes, but—”

 

“I tried. He hung up.”

 

“Then try calling again!”

 

“He told me they’re not going to contact me again until Wednesday, and if I call before then—specifically about this—they’ll suspend me.”

 

“But—”

 

“Hermione, I think we’re on our own for this one!”

 

I nodded, my stomach turning a little. This was going to be dangerous, then, if we had no help from the professionals. Anything could go wrong now.  _ Who am I kidding? _ I thought.  _ This was never going to go well to begin with _ .

 

“We’re going to figure it out, though,” she said. “It might be dangerous, but we’ll do it. Listen, I’m going to go grab us a set of coms to communicate through while we’re in there. Luna, get that security feed on your phone so that we can take it with us. We’re going to leave in a few minutes.” Then she turned on her heal and marched upstairs.

 

Luna and I stood still for a little while, neither making a move to hook up her phone with the appropriate things. Then Luna took a step, which reminded me—“Do you love her?” I asked suddenly. 

 

“Yes.” No pause.

 

“Does she know?”

 

“Yes.” Luna seemed thoughtful for a moment. Then she turned to me and asked the same thing: “Do you love her?” Ginny.

 

“Yes,” I responded.

 

“Does she know?”

 

“I’m not sure,” I told her.

 

“You should tell her.”

 

“I have.”

 

“Then make sure she understands.”

  
  


Thirty minutes later, we were sitting in Pansy’s car a block away from Little Hangleton, bickering over who would go in.

 

Or rather, Pansy and I were shouting about which one of us would go in and get Ginny while Luna sat in the corner with her fingers over her ears.

 

“SHUT UP!” she finally yelled. Pansy and I froze, staring at her. “Thank you,” she sighed. Neither of us had realized that she could be quite so loud. “Why don’t you both go in? I’ll monitor from out here. I’ll give you updates, tell you where to look. That sort of thing.”

 

“No,” was all Pansy said.

 

“No?” I asked.

 

She nodded. “I can’t put you out there. If you die, it’s on me.”

 

“No, it’s not,” I told her, looking her in the eyes. “I have a mind of my own. No one tells me what to do. If I go in there, it’s because of me, not you. Besides, you could use backup.”

 

“You’ve never done anything like this,” she sighed.

 

“I used to take martial arts,” I offered. Given, I had never been really great, but she didn’t need to know that.

 

“What, when you were seven?”

 

“No, up until last year.”

 

“For like six months?”

 

“For like six years. I can handle myself.”

 

“Fine. But you follow  _ my _ lead, got it?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed.

 

“Alright, we’ll walk in through the front entrance. They know me. If you just stand there and fiddle on your phone or something with your hood down, they won’t recognize you, and it won’t matter because they trust me. Got it? Now, if someone stops to speak to us, you say nothing unless you have to. Keep fiddling on your phone. I’ll lead the way to where Ginny’s being held. We want to act as natural as possible. If we act like we’re just doing whatever, like it’s totally fine, they shouldn’t get on our cases, alright?” I just nodded. “Then we get out of there as fast as possible through the window in the bathroom. We get in there, lock the door, and climb out. Ginny first, then you. I’ll go last. If something looks like it’s going to happen, you get out, alright? Don’t worry about me.” I nodded again, but silently decide to stay behind and help if needed.

 

“Are you okay?” she finally asked.

  
“Fine, why?” I responded. “Can we just get going?”

 

“You seem… much calmer than I expected. I figured you’d be freaking out at least a little.”

 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel pretty—”

 

“Flat?” Luna asked. I frowned. “You’re worried and you’re trying to suppress it. That’ll pass, though.”

 

“Let’s get going, then,” Pansy sighed, and I tried not to think too much about Luna’s words—that it would pass.

  
  


We hopped out of the car a few minutes later after changing our jackets quickly and tying back my hair (Pansy’s was pretty short and therefore didn’t need it).

 

“Testing,” Pansy said.

 

“Bobcats,” came Luna’s voice through our earpieces.

 

“Bobcats?” I asked.

 

“Bobcats,” Luna replied knowingly.

 

Pansy shook her head and mouthed, “Forget it.”

 

We began our trek down the street and into the alleyway.

 

We marched like it meant something, heading straight—well, as straight as two young gay women could—toward the door.

 

“Password?” the guard said. Today it wasn’t Malfoy’s dad. I didn’t recognize this one.

 

As planned, I had my head down, looking at my phone, as Pansy answered, “But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys.”

 

“I’m impressed,” the man responded. “It’s a long one this time.”

 

“Yeah,” Pansy agreed. “But it’s the  _ Masque of the Red Death _ , which I’ve read a hundred times anyway. I practically already had it memorized.”

 

“Of course you did,” he laughed. “Come right on in, you two.”

 

We entered as casually as we could, sharing a glance as we did.

 

It seemed that our eyes were telling each other, “I can’t believe how easy that was!”

 

But it wasn’t the time for celebration just yet. We still had to cross the entire bar and make it down the back hallway unscathed.

 

I continued to play on my phone, watching Pansy out of the corner of my eye, and we began to walk across the room.

 

About halfway, a bubbly young woman stopped us. “Pansy! It’s been ages since I saw you last!”

 

“I know!” Pansy said, giving her a hug. “We should totally hang out sometime!”

 

“You bet!” the other agreed. “I’ll text you later; let’s work out a time!”

 

“Sure,” Pansy said, nodding along.

 

“Maybe we could go down to the dueling club nearby? We haven’t sparred in ages!” I inwardly rolled my eyes. I had been expecting her to say something like “nail painting”.

 

“Oh, I know. I’ve still got it, though, and I bet I can still flip you on your ass in ten seconds flat!”

 

She laughed. “You’re on. And, um, just so you know, that’s not gonna happen this time.” She winked. “Have a nice night!” She walked away, humming softly to herself.

 

I raised an eye at Pansy, who just shrugged, smirking slightly. She seemed pleased with how casually she’d pulled that off.

 

We made it to the other end unscathed after that, and the hallway that followed seemed eerily deserted except for two guards at the end.

 

She pulled me back where I stood—peering around the corner—and procured something from the pocket of her trench coat.

 

I looked at it curiously.

 

“Smoke bomb,” she whispered. I hadn’t known about this. “It’s a distraction.”

 

She pulled me further away from the entrance of the hallway.

 

“Luna, what do you see?”

 

“It’s just those two guards on your side of the door. If you set off the bomb now, they’ll probably go for it. There are four more with Voldemort, though.”

 

“Right, okay.”

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry, probably should’ve mentioned this: Voldemort is in there with Ginny.”

 

“Yes, that’s what you just implied,” Pansy agreed.

 

“Yeah, he’s talking to her right now.”

 

“I’ll just… I don’t know, tell him that one of his guards told me that the explosion was something he should check out.”

 

“Alright,” Luna and I said at the same time.

 

“Okay, Hermione, cover your ears and look away.”

 

I did as she said and a moment later I heard a large explosion, a couple of screams, and then chaos.

 

Sure enough, the two guards who had previously been standing at the door walk out of the hall and into the main room. A moment later, two more follow, presumably from inside the room.

 

Pansy and I stood still in the corner and waited. Pansy’s brow furrowed. She pulled out another smoke bomb.

 

“What’s that for?” I asked in surprise.

 

“I don’t  _ really  _ want to have to talk to him. It seems like when we’d be most likely to be caught.” She set it off, then pulled a fire alarm a moment later. People start rushing out, the fog in the room thick now.

 

Finally, we heard the door at the other end of the hallway open. A moment later, four armed guards emerge flanking a man that I assumed was Voldemort. He looked furious.

 

We slipped behind him and dashed down to the door. Pansy started rummaging through her pockets, then pulled out lock picks. She jostled the doorknob and upon finding locked, as she’d clearly expected it to be, began working on getting it open. My heart was starting to pound in my chest as my stomach kindly decided to tie itself in knots and my pores chose to unload all the liquid I had had in the last twenty-four hours.

 

It was finally hitting me, I realized—everything that we were doing—and tried to force my breathing from my chest to my stomach in an effort to calm down.

 

After about ten billion hours, Pansy had the door open and we bolted inside. Ginny looked up, first appearing concerned, but then realized it was us. Her facial expressions went from confused to shocked to surprised and then to positively gleeful and relieved.

 

I yanked a rudely placed gag off of her mouth, whispering, “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of this.”

 

Pansy began tying her hands while I worked on her feet.

 

“What happened?” I asked.

 

“Someone from the school must have been listening to one of the three of us at some point. Oh, God, they know  _ everything _ !” she whispered. Pansy and I glanced at each other. “They wanted to know who else knew. Oh, God, they know about the FBI’s involvement, everything!  _ Everything _ !”

 

“It must still be compartmentalized, then,” Pansy said slowly, but I could hear the dread in her voice. “Because no one I talked to when we got here seemed to know. Right?”

 

“I guess,” Ginny breathed. “Let’s worry about that later, though, and get out of here!”

 

“Okay, good idea,” I told her. “And… Ginny, I’m sorry about everything.”

 

“No time for chit chat,” Pansy chastised us. We fell into silence for a moment longer, then finished unbinding Ginny from the chair.

 

The three of us then shot up. Ginny wobbled slightly.

 

“You alright?” I suddenly thought to ask.

 

“Yeah, yeah, fine, just got a sprained ankle, I think.” She winced. She wasn’t usually one for showing much pain, which made me worry that perhaps it was worse than she was letting on. “I’ll tell you the whole story later.”

 

I said nothing, but grabbed her hand—accidentally leaving her behind if she fell wouldn’t be great, after all this—and we bolted.

 

At first, everything seemed amazing. Sure, Ginny was hurt, and that wasn’t ideal, but we were going to make it out!

 

And we did. We made it all the way out to the front door, which we decided to go through since everything had been evacuated and getting out a window with Ginny’s ankle could have been challenging.

 

Unfortunately, we emerged to none other than Lord Voldemort himself. And he had Luna in his grasp, a knife pressed to her throat.

 

“Did you really think I was that dumb?” he asked us in a simpering voice. “You’re not getting away that easily.  _ Any _ of you.” He smiled sweetly. He had known this whole time. Known that we were here. “Unless, of course, you want your dear friend Luna to die, and I don’t think you do.”

 

I don’t think that any of us really knew what to do at that point, but Pansy pulled out her badge and started talking. I had the quick thinking to start recording on my phone. I stuck my hand in my pocket, glanced down, swiped to the side, and pressed the red button at the bottom of the screen.

 

“Listen, if you put her down right now and go quietly, we can give you some leeway, alright? You’re going to prison, Voldemort, for life, but you might be able to get a better deal if you cooperate, alright? That’s better than nothing.” She was slowly creeping towards him.

 

He smiled maniacally. “Yes, but I haven’t been arrested yet, have I? And I got out once; I’ll do it again. So I’m not going to worry about that right now.” He pressed his knife closer to Luna’s skin, a bead of blood forming, though she remained silent, glaring defiantly at the guards in front of her. “That means that I have no qualms about killing little-miss-monitor here if you don’t do as I say.”

 

“No, listen, you don’t want to do that,” Pansy said, taking another step toward him. “Alright? There’s another way.”

 

“To kill someone? Sure. Drowning, burning, suffocation, hanging. I could sit here all day and list options for you.”

 

“No, you know what I—” She took a deep breath. “You don’t have to kill her.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t. If you do as I say.”

 

“You can also choose the right path,” she said. She was almost to him now.

 

“Right. Anyway, don’t think I haven’t noticed your creeping,” he said. “Guards, seize them and throw them somewhere they’ll never see the light of day again. Well, maybe they will, but only many days after they’re  _ dead _ .” He laughed again, seeming overly pleased with himself.

 

I stopped the recording right then and brought up my contacts list.

 

“Get that phone away from her!” Voldemort screamed, realizing what I must have been doing.

 

In a panic, I clicked Sirius Black’s name—he was the first in my contacts—and clicked send, then typed “to police” and fumbled the send button, only barely managing to get it.

 

Then I made a break for it, knowing I couldn’t let them cancel the message, but they were hot on my trail.

 

I glanced at the bar at the top of the screen—the video was halfway sent and that wasn’t changing very fast.

 

_ Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshitshitmotherfuckingshit, _ I thought. What did I do? I couldn’t outrun them. I took a hard left and bolted for the nearby park.

 

I leapt up and over the fence, miraculously not tripping, and hurtled my phone as far as I could into the bushes and trees.

 

Adrenaline pumping, I glanced behind me. They were almost there. But I wasn’t going to give up just yet.

 

I broke into another sprint, my heart pounding in my chest, my lungs feeling like they were dying. Where could I go? I had no idea where the police station was.

 

_ Anywhere with people. _

 

I sprinted around to another bit of the fence, lept back over, and made for one of the stores. The streets were relatively deserted, so I had to make it inside.

 

I was so close to an open place when I felt a hand grab the back of my hood, snagging some of my falling-down hair with it.

 

I let out a yelp, both of surprise and of pain due to having my hair pulled. I stomped down as hard as I could on the person’s foot and then flung my heel up to hit them in the groin. I shocked even myself by doing that.

 

Luckily, the person let go, but I didn’t make it even two more steps before being hit on the head by something heavy and cold—probably metal, but I never actually got to find out what it was, as I was unconscious before I hit the ground.

  
  


I had no idea how long I was unconscious for, but one thing was certain: my head hurt worse than anything I’d ever dealt with before. Then again, I’d also never been hit over the head with something that hard before.

 

“What happened?” I muttered as my eyes drifted open. It was dark in the room. Was it morning? Had I dreamt everything that had happened?

 

But as I shifted around, I realized that my hands were tied, and came to the conclusion that it had, in fact, all been real.

 

“Oh, fuck,” I wheezed.

 

“Didn’t take you for a swearer,” Pansy commented. “I take it you now remember? Or was that the headache speaking?”

 

“The headache was swearing,” I clarified. “But yeah, I remember. What happened after I bolted?”

 

“Well, about five guards took off after you,” Pansy said. “The rest of us tried to get free and go after you, or, at least, get out, but a few of the Death Eaters that stayed behind grabbed us, and we couldn’t. We all really hoped that you would, though.”

 

I glanced around the room. It was solid, plain concrete with nothing but one barred window in the corner and two pillars in the center. Pansy and I were tied to one, Luna and Ginny to the other. Luna and Pansy were facing each other; Ginny and I were facing the walls.

 

I craned my head around, trying to see people a little better. “Are there security cameras in here?” I asked, realizing it would probably be an important thing to know.

 

Ginny jutted her head at one corner.

 

“Right, okay.”

 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Thanks for trying to come get me, by the way. Even if you did totally butcher it.” We all shot her a look. “Just saying.”

 

“Are you still mad at me?”

 

“For telling people about my involvement in everything? Yeah.”

 

“Okay, listen, I didn’t ‘tell’ anyone. The feds already knew, which I thought that you knew about, but I guess not. I did give them some extra information, but just so that they could help keep you safe!”

 

“You still told them! And I’m willing to bet it’s your damn fault we’re even in this mess!”

 

“What?” That surprised me. How could she say something like that?

 

“I think it was your blathering that gave them the tip about all of us.” She glared at me, hate in her eyes. That one hurt. I hadn’t thought it was me, but… I supposed she was right.

 

“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, feeling very much like a small child in trouble for knocking over a vase or something by accident.

 

She sighed. “I know you didn’t. I guess I can’t blame you.”

 

“So you’re not mad?”

 

“Oh, I’m mad; I just don’t think I should blame you.”

 

“Explain,” Pansy said, and Ginny and I suddenly realized again that we weren’t alone.

 

“Oh, right,” Ginny said hesitantly. “Well, it’s like ‘Mione said, she was just trying to protect me. That’s why I’m in this whole mess, after all—trying to protect the people that I care about.”

 

“I love you,” I whispered suddenly.

 

“What?” Ginny asked, looking up.

 

“I said that I love you. I don’t just care about you, I love you.” I spoke louder this time.

 

“Oh,” she said, and it seemed like it really sunk in this time. “I’d go over there and hug you if I could, but…” She tilted her head at the pole behind her where her hands were tied. I nodded.

 

Then we were all quiet for a moment.

 

“‘Mione?” she finally said.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“If we don’t make it out of here, I think that you should know I love you, too.” I didn’t say anything for a long while. “‘Mione?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Please say something.”

 

“I don’t know what to say, though,” I protested.

 

“Are you mad?”

 

“No. Why would I be?”

 

“I’ve known for a while now that you loved me but I didn’t say anything.”

 

“Oh. Why not?”

 

“I don’t know. I guess I was scared.”

 

Nobody really knew what to say after that, so none of us said anything.

 

But finally, after maybe a half hour, we all looked over to Luna, who was making a ruckus by trying to kick off one of her shoes.

 

“What on earth are you doing?” Pansy asked.

 

“My feet are sweaty,” Luna replied simply, as though that were obvious. “I hate shoes.” But there was something off about the way she said it, and Pansy definitely noticed.

 

Pansy deliberately looked at the camera, then back at Luna, who gave a slight nod.

 

Then Ginny and I had a silent exchange:

 

Me:  _ Do you know what they’re talking about? _

Her:  _ No clue. _

Me:  _ Escape plan? _

Her:  _ Well, obviously _ .

 

I rolled my eyes at that. It was funny how well we could read each other.

 

“Look, now your shoes are right in front of me,” Pansy complained loudly. “They stink!” Pansy wasn’t much of a whiner, but neither Ginny nor I said a thing about it.

 

“Fine, I’ll take them over here,” Luna said, pulling them with her feet. “But then Ginny still has to deal with them, and so do I.”

 

I had had my head craned back to listen to what was being said and to be able to see the others more clearly, but now silence had fallen, making my positioning conspicuous, I realized. Pansy seemed to, as well.

 

“I hate how tight my hands are tied,” she said, though it seemed a little forced. She was allowing me to keep looking.

 

“I know. Me too,” I replied.

 

We watched as Luna jammed a finger into her shoe and pulled something out, though we couldn’t see what it was. Then she stopped moving, prompting the rest of us to go back to our normal places and be quiet.

 

A moment later Ginny let out a gasp.

 

I turned my head again, trying to see what had happened, though nothing appeared to be out of place.

 

“Gin?”

 

“Yeah?” she replied casually.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Oh, I, um, my, I just, I was, this thing…”

 

“Is it your back again?” Pansy asked sympathetically, which confused me for only a second. She was giving Ginny an excuse.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Ginny agreed. “It’s just this position that I’m sitting in right now. My back’s getting all cramped up and I think it’s starting to… er… spasm.”

 

“That’s awful,” Pansy said, sounding sad for her. I would have bought it if I hadn’t known it was a lie.

 

Then Luna said, “Why do you guys like shoes so much?”

 

“What?” came the voices of several of us.

 

“Really,” she said. “It’s so much nicer to have just your  _ slim _ , bare foot out in the open. You should try it! Come on, take off your shoes!” Why the emphasis on “slim”?

 

“I don’t really think now’s the best time for that,” Pansy told her. She seemed as confused as I was.

 

“Well, I mean, Luna’s always trying to get us to do weird things like this for her,” Ginny reasoned. Evidently, she understood what the hell Luna was going on about. “Isn’t now a good time to do one of them? Since we might not  _ be around _ much longer?”

 

Then I realized what she meant.

 

“Yeah, okay, I suppose,” I agreed.

 

“I don’t understand you people,” Pansy sighed. “But fine.”

 

I kicked off my tennis shoes and listened to Pansy do the same.

 

“I don’t know if I can get mine off,” Ginny said. “You know how tight I tie my shoelaces.” That part was true. She had a pair of dark red converse that she always laced so tightly that they were practically socks.

 

“That’s alright,” Luna told her. We all thought for a second. Finally, Luna continued, “It’s not a must-do. I guess my dying wish isn’t for you all to have your feet bare. It’s not like I’d be screaming for it as you  _ carried _ me to my grave.”

 

“Alright,” Ginny replied. “Thanks for  _ understanding _ .” We all assumed that meant “I got the message.”

 

Luna then said, “Do you ever wonder about why people count down from ten?” None of us answered. We didn’t know where she was going with this one. “Like, in those movies about astronauts. Why not three?”

 

“I think it’s for more time for everyone to prepare,” Pansy said. “If you counted down from three, it would be more of a…  _ surprise _ , right?” she realized.

 

“Exactly!” Luna agreed. “Aren’t  _ surprises _ a lot more fun?”

 

“So you’re saying you would make the astronauts shit themselves so that you could surprise them and count down from  _ three _ , instead?” Ginny clarified.

 

“Yeah,” said Luna. She smiled at us all. Then she moved a hand over to Ginny’s, leaving us to wonder what she would do next. Then she mouthed (she was pointing away from the camera), “Three, two, one.” She tapped Ginny’s wrist once with each number.

 

When she reached one, she kicked off the binds that had been on her feet and shot up, her hands suddenly free. She’d pulled a knife from her shoe, I realized, and Ginny’s gasp had been at getting her bonds undone.

 

Ginny got up too, although more unstable than the rest of us, as her feet were still tied. Luna cut through Pansy’s ties and then mine. She dropped the knife on the ground and grabbed two lock picks from her shoe, handing them to Pansy.

 

Pansy quickly picked the lock while Luna and I worked on untying Ginny’s feet.

 

My heart was pounding in my ears. I hoped that this worked because there wasn’t any guarantee anyone was coming for us.

 

Finally, we got her free, and she stood—or, tried to, at least, but nearly fell. I caught her before she could hit the ground.

 

“Ankle?” I asked, remembering earlier.

 

She nodded.

 

I turned my back to her, saying, “Hop on.”

 

“What?” she asked.

 

“Just get on, alright? We don’t have time! Luna, grab your knife.” Both did as I asked.

 

Pansy finished, Luna grabbed her knife, and we crept out through the hallway.

 

We could hear quite the commotion at the other end.

 

“Wha—” I started to ask, but then I heard the sirens.

 

Sirius had gotten the message. I almost fainted with relief.

 

We jogged down the hallway, to find a whole bunch of police.

 

“Excuse me, you’re not supposed to be in here,” one woman told us, eyeing us skeptically.

 

“It’s okay,” Pansy said, pulling out her badge. I was impressed she even still had it. “They kidnapped us.”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said immediately. “Please, come right this way.”

 

Outside, where we discovered that the sky was already lightening, we were wrapped in blankets and questioned briefly about what happened.

 

And then, after that, they told us… that we could go. That all would be well.

 

So the four of us headed down the street to the car, me carrying Ginny all the way.

 

When we were almost there, we ran into none other than Ron.

 

“Oh, there you guys are!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I’m heading over to Mum and Dad’s—I’m going to the bus stop right now—for the start of break. I was about to lose it, Ginny! Where have you been?”

 

The four of us looked at each other.

 

“It’s a long story,” Ginny said. We all nodded in agreement. “I’ll tell you over dinner tonight. Do you guys want to come?” She looked at Pansy, Luna, and me. We all shrugged. “They’ll be coming. And I’ll be riding with them.”

 

Ron frowned. “Why is Hermione carrying you?”

 

“Because I fell and she’s chivalrous like that.” I blushed a little when Ginny said that. Then, Ginny leaned forward, brought her lips to mine, and kissed me slowly.

 

And all of my other problems fell away.

 

After that, we all lived happily ever after. More or less.

 

**Chapter Release Date:** January 8, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this part of the Christmas Chronicles, and I hope you guys had a lot of fun reading it! I’m looking forward to next year’s installment, but I don’t really know what pairing I’d like to do. I’m thinking Snape/Lupin (or possibly Serious/Lupin), Pansy/Luna (since we don’t know their story just yet!), or Dean/Seamus. Tell me which of these you’d like, or suggest another pairing if you have one you’d prefer. Remember that they all take place in (relatively) the same universe so the characters from this one and Chemistry would remain as background characters. See you next year!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Release Date: December 11, 2018
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Stick around for the next chapter—that’s when it starts to pick up pace!


End file.
